


Genesis

by VGal



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Character Study, Charlie as the Grue, F/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-03 22:38:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6629827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VGal/pseuds/VGal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It began with simple experimentation. Familiar objects like his old props came first, and then more complex things soon followed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Genesis

In the beginning there was only dust and darkness, and the remnants of what might have once been a great hall. Whatever it was now, great was nowhere among its description. Maxwell had explored this void of a world as best he could, but everywhere his mind ventured was the same—nothingness. There was no sky above, no earth below, no life of any kind, only dust and darkness and the throne he was forced to occupy. Well there was **them** , but he had long since ceased his questions. They never responded anyway, nor attempted to communicate their intentions to him. They were simply there, everywhere. Outside and _inside._ Watching, waiting, and wanting. And as time passed by, Maxwell found that he, too, had come to want.

He took a long drag from his cigar, pondering his predicament as he often did, and forming perfect circles of smoke when he exhaled. He turned his hand back and forth, eyeing the object that rested familiarly between his fingers. Was it real, or was it as empty as everything else in this place?

Maxwell brought the cigar to his nose, inhaling its rich, earthy scent. It was real enough, and was as equally satisfying now as it was back then. It was funny, actually, the more he thought about it. He was sitting there one day, wishing desperately for just one more drag on his favorite brand when all of a sudden a shadowy substance formed between his index finger and thumb and— _POOF_ —there it was. Just like _magic._

And against his better judgment, it was a moment he found himself repeating. It was a harmless vice. His one solace in this God forsaken place. And, really, what did he have to lose anymore? **They** had already taken everything from him. The least they could do for him was this one, simple thing. It did not take Maxwell long to wonder…

_What else can we— **I** do? ___

And a smile split his otherwise austere face for the first time in forever.

It began with simple experimentation. Familiar objects like his old props came first, and then more complex things soon followed. He gave life—living, breathing, functioning _life_ —to birds and rabbits, much like the ones he used in his old act. The more he created the more he wanted to create, and he could feel his power growing with each new formation. Among his many concoctions was a chess set his brother gave him long ago. Maxwell studied it carefully; every piece was exactly as he recalled and summoned for, right down to the little scratches from where her long nails grazed them when they played. Yet another reminder from that old life…

Why was he doing this to himself?

Maxwell picked up one of the pieces—the white queen—with his own hand to inspect it more thoroughly. Having grown somewhat accustomed to his powers, he had begun to use **them** more freely ( and why not? ) but this… This required a personal touch. He ran a bare thumb gently along the scratches, feeling the roughness of it against his skin.

“Charlie…”

“You called, Maxy?” A chillingly, sweet voice rang out from the darkness.

His body stiffened momentarily, causing him to relinquish his hold on the chess piece in his hand. It fell to the floor with a light sounding _clack_ before rolling a few inches away from him. He turned to the voice, eyes wide in disbelief at what he saw, and never expected to see again.

“ _My God._ ”

“Charlie will still do.”

A familiar form emerged from the blackness then, and darkness followed her from behind. Wisps of shadows formed into tendrils at the hem of her dress, flowing out from her like the darkest silk as she approached him. Though her appearance was somewhat altered, there was no mistaking that body, that playful smile, or the voice behind it. But Maxwell was left speechless and fearful by her sudden appearance.

“Aw, what’s wrong, Maxy? Didn’t you miss me?” She asked, taking note of his wary expression. One of the shadowy tendrils that made up the black of her dress retrieved the discarded queen, bringing the piece to rest gently in Charlie’s palm. She examined it rather playfully and giggled. “Sure looks like you did.”

“Of course I missed you!” Maxwell shot back.

Doomed to this empty, miserable existence, how could she even ask that? But then he took a quick breath, trying to collect his thoughts.

 _No, no, this isn’t Charlie!_ He had to remind himself. _It can’t be._

He had been trapped here for what felt like an eternity, desperate and lonely, and was thinking of Charlie only moments prior. Was this some sort of perverse conjuration on his part, or **their’s** sent to torture him? They did that sometimes, showed him beautiful, terrible things… But as he watched her standing there amidst the shadows—an oasis among a vast and barren wasteland—he wanted it to be her with every fiber of his being, even if it meant damning his innocent Charlie along with him. Still, he was hesitant to trust his eyes. Not here, not after all this time.

“Why come to me now?”

“I couldn’t reach you before, but I’ve always been there, Maxy.” Her tone was dismal, but affectionate.

She made her way closer to him, returning the chess piece to its board. She stood inches from him, close enough to smell the musky scent of cigar smoke that clung to his suit. She breathed deep, closing her eyes as a thousand memories danced about in her head. How long had it been since she was this close to him? She longed so badly to be in his arms in that moment, to feel whole and _alive._

“You’ve been lonely for a long time… We both have.” She said with sincerity, sliding her gloved hands along the length of his lapels to join them behind his neck. It felt so good to touch him again. “But no longer.”

“What do you mean, couldn’t reach me?” Maxwell was so eager to believe this was _his_ Charlie, that it was her arms entwined about him and not something _else_ , but he could not escape the sliver of doubt in his mind that whispered it was all a lie.

His eyes wandered that slender, shadowy frame up and down and back up again, lips curling slightly. If this was Charlie, it was abundantly clear that she was not entirely his any longer. “Are you… **_them?_** ”

That last question stung. Charlie’s eyes narrowed, and she pushed away from him, shadows flaring from her like the fanned flames of a fire. “Don't you for one minute think I’m anything like _**them!**_ They don’t control me! _No one controls me!_ ”

The look she shot him was scathing and bitter, but the longer she looked her expression softened, and the shadows about her slowly subsided. She could not bring herself to stay angry with him, even though she had every right to be. Time was funny like that. After all her years spent in darkness, angry and afraid, she had watched him suffer too. They had suffered long enough. Now they would endure, and no one would stand in their way.

“I took what I wanted from **them** and made it mine… Just like you did.” Charlie explained, pressing one hand flat against her chest as if to convince him. “I can’t create things like you do, but that’s why I’m here now.” She sounded excited by that as she continued, taking both of his hands in hers. “I was a part of **them** for so long, but you helped me. Once you began using the shadows, it made me stronger until I could finally have a form all my own.” She pressed her cheek against his knuckles with a content sigh. “Now that we’re together, it’ll be just like old times.”

Maxwell doubted that it would be _just_ like old times, but there was a certain truth to her words that he could not ignore. Having her returned to him, feeling the certainty of her hands on his, only strengthened the desire to see what he was capable of. He was powerful, more so than he had ever been. He could feel it, all that untapped energy pulsing at his fingertips just waiting to be unleashed.

He took Charlie by her deceptively frail hands to pull them closer, an almost inhuman grin rising on his face as he looked at her. Yes, she was different now, but so was he, and there was a darkness in her that beckoned to his own. It was invigorating.

“Forgive me, Charlie. I wasn’t strong enough to give you the world I dreamed of,” Maxwell began, planting a tender kiss along her knuckles. He now possessed the confidence and the power to rectify that. The entire world was his stage and the show must go on! “But now I am.”

And Charlie wiggled in excitement, her own devilish smile spreading across her face to match his.

 

 


End file.
